Searching For A Family
by Dr. Austin A. Winchester
Summary: They had never talked about about adoption, but he figured if they ever did go down that road it would be a child that desperately needed them and not a broken 22 year old. Emily latches on to a young woman and is desperate to save her, straining her relationship with Derek. While it's definitely not conventional, a family is formed and some bonds strengthened while new ones formed
1. Chapter 1

_"Without a family, man, alone in the world, trembles with the cold." - Andre Maurois_

Mallory Parker watched the blood from her wrists ooze out onto the dirty pavement, wishing that she would just disappear. Ignoring the physical pain she caused herself from the knife blade, she smiled because for once, she wasn't feeling the emotional pain of neglect and abandonment that had become a permanent fixture in her life from childhood. At 22 years old, the young woman had experienced more pain and hardship than most people ever faced in their entire lives. Not to mention, without a permanent job or home, she was one of many living on the streets in Bluffdale, Utah.

The morning sun was just starting to peer into the dim alley, where she and a few others had camped for the night and she let the dusty blanket around her shoulders fall to the ground. Closing the jackknife, the young woman slipped it into the pocket of her worn and faded blue jeans, letting the blood from her slit wrists stain the pavement and her pants. Bringing her hand up to her face, she wiped away the few tears she had shed and took a look around at her surroundings.

A bunch of others destined to roam the streets for survival ducked out from behind dumpsters and other permanent fixtures of the alley. Some were old and had been there for years. Others, like herself had only been in this situation a few years, some only a few months. While she wondered what their stories were and if they were similar to her own, she never asked. It was like an unspoken rule out on the streets to keep to yourself or in a band of a few others. Not everyone forced out onto the streets were friendly. Camped nearby were Sonny, Ginger, Spike, Peddlar, Rusty, Squinty, and Lefty. It was all nicknames out here and they were usually demeaning names the others had given. For example, out here she wasn't known as Mallory. She was known as Spanky.

Although she hadn't of gotten much sleep during the night, she still felt rejuvenated, ready to face whatever hell the new day would bring, praying that someday, someone would save her from this nightmare.

**xXx**

"I am glad to be back!" Emily Prentiss exclaimed, walking into the crowded bullpen of the Behavioral Analysis Unit early on a Monday morning. Her husband, Derek Morgan chuckled at her response to being back at work after their two week vacation to Jamaica. Dropping her belongings on the ground by her desk, the woman patted her husband's shoulder as she scooted past him. Wandering over to the tiny kitchenette, the profiler saw an amused David Rossi watching her from the catwalk overlooking the bullpen.

"You're glad to be back," the older profiler commented with an amused smirk on his face. "And I'm not sure whether or not to thank you for getting us two weeks off or slap you for getting us two weeks off."

Derek, who had followed Emily to the kitchenette to grab some coffee, nudged the brunette in the side with his elbow. Grinning, he exclaimed, "We got the power, Baby!"

"What are you talking about, Derek?" Emily asked, stirring splenda into her own mug of coffee.

"Because of our vacation, the team got off as well," he said. "We shut down the whole BAU, Baby!"

Rolling her eyes, Emily took a sip of the hot, caffeinated beverage. "There are other teams," she reminded him.

Shaking his head, Derek followed her over to the clutter of desks her desk was located. Taking a seat, Emily set her mug down and quickly booted up the computer to check her email. Derek, perched himself on the edge of her desk, animatedly telling her about the first time he went to Jamaica and how the vacation was cut short due to his friend Elle getting arrested for homicide.

Peeling her eyes away from the computer screen, Emily looked at the agent perched on her desk. "You have the worst luck when it comes to vacation," she commented.

"What do you mean by that, woman?" he asked, raising his brow in question.

"Well," the brunette profiler drawled, counting on her fingers. "You just told me about your first vacation to Jamaica ended within two days of being there because of a homicide. Then, you get arrested when you went home to visit your mother, and for two days while I was out sightseeing and shopping, you were stuck in our room sick."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, crossing his muscular arms over his chest. "I just ate some bad shrimp."

Penelope Garcia flounced into the room just then, her blonde hair bouncing up and down on her shoulders. Immediately, the annoyed technical analyst marched up to the couple congregated at Emily's desk and jabbed a manincured nail in Derek's chest. "You, didn't send me a post card!" she exclaimed, frowning. Next, she turned to Emily. "And you!" she exclaimed louder, wagging her finger at Emily as one might do to a misbehaved child. "Your phone was turned off!"

Smiling, Emily responded with, "I never answer my phone on vacation."

"You didn't answer your phone and my stud muffin didn't send me the post card he promised," Garcia mused. Her frown turned into a grin as she folded her handeds, practically begging. Right now there was only one possible solution in her head as to why her friends hadn't kept their promises and she prayed she was right. "Oh please tell me, we're going to have little Derek's and Emily's running around the BAU!"

"Emily, you're-" The familiar voice of Dr. Spencer Reid asked as the genius plopped into the chair at his own desk.

"No!"

"Too bad," Jennifer "JJ" Jareau commented as she handed a file to each of the agents in the room. "You'd make a great mother."

Shrugging off JJ's comment as if it were an unwanted sweater, Emily flipped through the file the media liason had just given her as the others dispersed, getting ready for the breifing that would take place in less than an hour. Then pushing himself away from his wife's desk, Derek walked the short distance over to his own to start on his own work. The bullpen was full of the usual buzz a Monday morning brought as the agents milled around filling coffee cups and asked about each other's weekends while doing their assigned tasks.


	2. Chapter 2

"Ginger!" Mallory called for her friend. There was no answer. "Ginger!" She called again frantically, but the red head did not reply. Oh God, where was she? Spinning in circles, Mallory looked every direction for the missing person, but could not see her. Hastening her footsteps, her feet carried her away from the alley and out onto the street seeing if she could catch a quick glimpse of her friend's fiery red hair. Running up the street a ways, Mallory continued to call Ginger's name. The strangers walking along the sidewalk who had a bed to sleep on every night probably thought that she was calling a beloved, lost pet and not a human being. Still unable to spot her friend amongst the crowd, Mallory ran back the way she came. Still Ginger was not revealed. Desperate for her friend's company, Mallory burst into tears, stumbling back into the dark alley. Something had happened to the 19 year old, she could feel it. Tears blurring her vision, Mallory sunk to her knees but did not wipe the tears away. Instead, she kept crying, laying on the damp pavement amongst several full garbage bags that had fallen from the overstuffed dumpster she hid behind.

Ginger was really her only friend out here and if she was gone, there was nothing to live for and no one to care if she disappeared forever.

The knife blade was calling her name...

**xXx**

Emily listened intently to JJ as the media liaison explained to the team about a series of murders happening in Bluffdale, Utah. Glancing around the table at her colleagues, Emily watched Reid's nose scrunch in thought as he studied the report. Beside her, Derek raised his eyebrows and let out a deep breath. He was frustrated. Rossi shook his head and Hotch looked straight ahead waiting for JJ to continue with the briefing.

There were six victims that they knew about. Half of those victims were successful, wealthy individuals all shot execution style. Normally when a victim was shot it told them that the killing was impersonal. The unsub didn't know the victim and didn't want to interact with them, suggesting that he wasn't confident or was ashamed of something that forced to shy away from interacting with others. What had the profilers stumped was that these victims had all been found in or around alleyways and abandoned buildings-classic sites for the homeless population to roam. What was even weirder was that forensics suggested that the victims had been killed in the exact same spot they had been found-miles away from their homes. Another thing that seemed to stump the profilers was that the other half of the victims was all unidentified as classified as either John or Jane Doe. Since there was no information on them, it was possible these victims were of the homeless population. What was known about them though was that they were found killed in high end neighborhoods-miles from where the homeless would roam.

"Most serial killers have a victim's preference," Derek stated the facts, taking his eyes off the case file laying in front of him. Glancing in Emily's direction, he said, "But not this guy," he commented. "He doesn't care if they're white, black, male, female, rich or poor."

Looking at her husband, Emily shrugged her shoulders. "Is it possible we're dealing with two different offenders?" She asked before turning her gaze onto Hotch to gather his thoughts on the case.

However, it was Reid who spoke up instead of the unit chief and Emily quickly glanced in his direction to let him know that she was indeed listening to what he had to say. "Two different offenders operating in the same city with the same MO is highly unlikely."

Oh," Emily replied quietly as she nodded her head, understanding what Reid had said. Staring down at the case file in front of her, she flipped the pages to try to gather more information about the case.

"It's the same offender," Hotch confirmed in his stern, stoic voice.

"And he's sending us a message," Rossi told the team.

Leaning closer to Derek, Emily whispered to him. "What's that?" she muttered sarcastically, "that he's a sick son of a bitch?"

Amused at her comment, Derek smiled, shaking his head.

As much as it was true, it wasn't his message.

"His message is about equality," Rossi elaborated to the younger profilers. "By getting rid of the upper and lower classes, all that is left is the working middle class."

"So this creep is obsessed with fairness in the society?" Morgan asked with a raise of his brow as he looked to Rossi. "Wouldn't he better get his message across in someplace like DC? Why Bluffdale?"

"I don't think he cares about equality about the entire U.S. population," Rossi confirmed. "Bluffdale isn't all that big of a city in the middle of Utah. For him, this is personal."

"And we know something else," Hotch jumped in in conclusion. All eyes wandered to him as he spoke. Glancing briefly at each member of his team, he added, "He won't stop until he's caught." He paused for a minute, letting the words sink in. Each team member knew what was happening even without him having to say the last part. "Wheels up in thirty."

**xXx**

The knife blade penetrated the skin, spreading the edges of the cut farther apart the deeper she inserted the blade. More and more blood oozed and spurted from the wound and it refused to stop. Her jeans now had a dark crimson stain from all the blood splattering onto them, but she did not care. Salty tears cleaned the deep cuts on her wrists as she cried. Mallory didn't cry from the pain though. She'd suffered so much physical pain in her life; her body barely registered the pain anymore. No, she cried because of the hurt she felt deep inside her as she remembered years of physical and mental abuse and the strong, sad, feeling of being all alone in the world.

If this was life, then it wasn't worth living and Mallory didn't want to know how worse it could get. As much as she prayed, she knew it would never get better. No matter how much she prayed for it to get better when she was just a child, her prayers were never answered. If this was all life had in store for her, then it would be better if she cut it short.


	3. Chapter 3

Skimming through the case file once again, Emily didn't pick her head up to look at the others as she asked, "Is it possible that the unidentified victims are on file somewhere?" Picking her head up, she glanced her right meeting Derek's gaze. Derek, who was sitting next to her, shrugged before also turning his head to the right to look at Hotch, waiting for an answer. "Like a missing persons report or something?"

"We could have Garcia look into it," Derek commented to Hotch.

"Good idea," Hotch nodded in agreement, maintaining eye contact with both Derek and Emily as he spoke to them. "Can you and Prentiss go out on the streets? Find out if those victims really were homeless and if that population saw anything?" He watched the couple turn to each other and simultaneously nod in agreement before turning their focus back to him. Next, Hotch glanced over at Rossi and Reid who were both sitting across from Derek and Emily. "Dave, I want you to have a look at the crime scenes." The older profiler nodded in agreement with the orders given by Hotch. "Take Reid with you." Next, Hotch turned his head to the back of the jet where JJ stood in front of the fax machine. Looking at the others, he said, "JJ and I will go straight to the police station and set up."

With a small stack of papers in her hand, JJ walked back over to the group of profilers and handed them each a sheet. "Detective Bill Peirce just faxed this over," she explained. "Another body was just discovered outside an insurance agency."

"Jane Doe?" Emily asked, seeing the photo of a young woman who couldn't have been more than twenty years old with fiery, red hair.

"Afraid so," JJ nodded, sighing as she took a seat next to the Unit Chief.

Eyes once again traveling from one agent to the other, Hotch concluded the conversation with, "Get some rest now, we hit the ground running."

**xXx**

Mallory both liked and hated the homeless shelters. They always provided a hot meal so she didn't have to dumpster dive for leftovers all the time and the staff were friendly and weren't judgmental. However, when it came to places to sleep, space was limited and sometimes territorial fights broke out amongst the homeless. Because of that, she tended to avoid the only homeless shelter in the area except when she needed a warm meal.

Her belly full from the hot soup they were serving in the shelter, Mallory packed up her few belongings and left the building. If she needed to sleep, a park bench was better than concrete. A hand pushed her aside forcefully and Mallory's eyes narrowed. "Watch it!" She exclaimed angrily, pushing the homeless man aside. "I was here first!" The grubby homeless man pushed her again and Mallory was quick to retaliate, initiating the scuffle. Feeling blood trickling down her chin, Mallory knew that the guy had cut her lip during the fracas. Summoning all of her strength, she knocked him to the ground and held her own. Fists flying and legs kicking would have continued if a volunteer at the shelter hadn't of gotten in between them, stopping the fight. Grabbing ahold of Mallory's arm, he pulled her back so she couldn't throw another punch.

"There's plenty of room for everyone," the tall, brunette male volunteer calmly said, ushering the homeless man inside the shelter. Wiping his hands on his apron, he watched Mallory disappear down the street. Mallory just walked away ignoring the volunteer. She didn't even bother to look back. She didn't know where she would go from here, but for now it wouldn't be to as shelter. Disturbances happen frequently in this life and if she walked away with a bloody lip and few bruises from the scuffle then she was doing quite well for herself.

**xXx**

Detective Peirce was rather short and heavy with graying blond hair, Reid noticed when he and Rossi arrived at the latest crime scene. Since the scene was not yet processed, both agents had to slip latex shoe covers over their shoes upon arrival, like a surgeon would wear while performing surgery. Ducking under the crime scene tape, the young doctor followed Rossi's lead and listened as the older profile introduced them. Through his sunglasses, he immediately watched the crime scene unit processing the scene and looking for evidence.

"I thought there'd be more of you BAU boys," the detective commented, shaking hands with Rossi. Reid only waved.

"There are two that went straight to the station and another two out on the street," Rossi explained to the detective.

Both of the profilers pulled white latex gloves over their hands so they wouldn't get their fingerprints on pieces of evidence that would need to be processed in the lab. Stooping down by the body in the back parking lot of the insurance agency, Rossi picked up one arm by the wrist and looked at it. Shaking his head, he stood back up to his full height.

"What is it?" Reid asked.

The cause of death like all the others had been a single gunshot wound to the head. The lack of defensive wounds told Rossi that the victim had not fought back against the unsub and since there weren't any ligature marks on the wrists or ankles meant that she hadn't been bound the short time that she had been with the unsub.

"How does the unsub grab someone off the street without binding their wrists and ankles to ensure that they don't get away?" Rossi asked the young genius.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Reid said, "The lack of defensive wounds could mean that she trusted her captor."

"This would make sense as to why there aren't any ligature marks either."

"If this victim was homeless like y'all think," Detective Peirce said to Rossi, "Then how would she have known the perp?"

"Just because she trusted the unsub doesn't mean she knew him personally," Reid explained to the detective. The detective raised his eyebrows in question to Reid's statement and the young doctor continued rambling. People don't know police officers or other authority figures personally, but they generally trust them without question. In fact a few years ago, we worked a case in Kansas City. The unsub had a partner who drove around in a van pretending to be social services to lure the homeless. Because the victims thought they were getting help, they didn't believe they were in any danger until it was too late."

"And that worked?"

"He killed at least 63 people."

Looking down at the ground, Detective Peirce formed an 'O' shape with his mouth in reply to Reid's last statement. "So we're dealing with two different offenders?"

"No," Rossi replied. "We believe we are dealing with a single offender who is highly organized and intelligent."

**xXx**

Exiting the homeless shelter, Derek and Emily both returned their sunglasses to their faces to protect their eyes from the blinding light of the sun. Pausing on the sidewalk, they turned to face each other. Emily watched Derek place the photos of the victims back into the file. "So the manager definitely remembered seeing the latest victim a few times," she commented, meeting his eyes.

Derek nodded in agreement. "Which tells us that she was homeless," he added, finishing his wife's sentence. "But not every homeless person visits the shelters," he reasoned.

Nudging Derek with her elbow, Emily said with a lighthearted smile, "If you promise not to complain about your feet hurting, I say we talk to as many people living out on the streets as possible to see if they know any of these victims."

"Funny, Princess," Derek replied with his own grin. "I was just going to tell you the same thing."


	4. Chapter 4

"I'm sorry, Sir," Garcia apologized to Hotch over the phone, "but there aren't any records at all. Your victims aren't on file as missing in any database."

"You're sure?" Hotch asked, frowning. Looking across the room at JJ, he shook his head.

"I even went Interpol, Sweet Cheeks."

Sighing, Hotch removed the cell phone from his ear, and ended the call. If these victims weren't missing, then they had to be homeless. Because they weren't classified as missing, it probably meant that no one was around to care if they disappeared. JJ had just finished hanging all of the collected evidence up on the board when Rossi and Reid arrived at the station. The two agents were followed by Detective Peirce. Once inside the meeting room, Rossi introduced the detective to both JJ and Hotch. Shaking hands with the detective, Hotch asked the two profilers to tell them what they had already come up with. Although he listened intently to what his subordinates were telling him, Hotch's mind was still traveling at 100 miles an hour, trying to figure out what else should be done to complete an accurate profile of their unsub.

Taking a deep breath, Hotch returned his cell phone to his ear, waiting for the person to pick up on the other end. Hearing it ring in his ear, Hotch looked around the table at his men. "JJ and I will work on putting together a press conference," he explained. "Dave, I want to you take the detective with you and talk to the families of the victims. Reid, I want you to do a geographical profile." Each agent nodded their head to their commanding officer's orders and went to work.

**xXx**

"Prentiss," Emily answered her phone, stopping in her tracks. Derek stopped next to her and watched her body language as she talked on the phone. She stood tall, like she always did and her body language did not reveal any signs of stress of frustration. Derek found himself wondering just what Hotch was telling her. Nodding her head once, Prentiss hung up the phone and slid it back into her jacket pocket.

"What was that about?" he asked her, concern written across his face.

"Hotch is convinced that all these victims were homeless," she explained. Derek nodded and she continued. "He wants us to keep working this angle while the others focus on the other victims."

"Well then lead the way, Princess!" Derek joked, ushering her forward.

Scrunching her nose in disgust, Emily kicked a flyaway piece of trash with her boot as she and Derek continued along their path, stopping to talk to as many people living out on the streets as they could. Looking around, Emily couldn't help but think that this was worse than the circus. Those things were always filthy. Looking up at the sky, Emily saw that it was getting later in the day, only about three o'clock or so though. Derek stopped an older gentleman pushing a shopping cart past dumpsters to see if he could scrounge anything that was salvageable. While Derek asked him a few questions, Emily decided to go on ahead, staying well in line of Derek's sight though.

A few feet ahead, she caught a glimpse of a pair of worn sneakers sticking out past a large, green dumpster. Stepping closer so that she could peer around the corner of the dumpster, Emily saw that the shoes belonged to a young woman. Her blonde hair was down and matted to her face, almost covering the dirt. She didn't even acknowledge Emily's presence, as if she didn't want to know why she was there in the first place. However, when Emily saw the knife in the young woman's hand and the blood from her arm pooling onto her clothes and onto the ground, Emily knew that she had to help this woman. Tears sprang to her eyes at the sight, but Emily quickly wiped them away. She couldn't get emotional like this on the job. Like Hotch had reminded her more than once, she had to remain objective.

But how was she supposed to approach this woman? Cutters didn't want others to know and so they hid the scars and only cut in private, away from the wandering eyes of others. Chances are, this hurting young woman would pull away without answering any questions or accept offers of help. And Emily really did want to help this young woman. She didn't know why, but something was drawing her to herself.

Sighing, Emily took a deep breath calming her beating heart. "I'm Emily," she said quietly, "What's your name?"

And just like Emily predicted, she did pull away from the greeting. Immediately, the young woman's eyes widened in shock, pocketing the jack knife as quickly as possible before pulling down the sleeves of her dirty hooded sweatshirt. Ignoring Emily, she pulled her outstretched legs closer to her body before pushing herself up to her feet. Remaining silent, she made to run.

"Hey," Emily's voice remained calm and unthreatening as possible. "It's okay. I'm with the FBI. I just want to ask you a few questions." Emily pulled out her badge to show the frightened young woman.

The woman stopped and looked Emily up and down, scrutinizing her, almost judgingly. Then her eyes landed on the badge. "What do you want?" She snapped. Emily returned the badge to her pocket.

She was rude, but her territory was being invaded. Besides Emily knew better than anyone that people tended to develop an attitude when they were hurting. The attitude served as a defense mechanism so others couldn't see what was really going on inside. Emily knew. For years, she had used those exact same mechanisms. To do this day, she still used those defense mechanisms. Sarcasm was her best friend at times.

Having used these same defense mechanisms herself, Emily knew how to handle this hurting young woman. 1. She would have to be demanding yet calm. 2. She had to be empathetic and her know that she understood the pain that she was going through.

Mallory knew that this beautiful and undoubtable rich woman had seen her harm herself. She wasn't stupid. She also knew that the only way this woman would help her was by throwing her in some mental hospital. She'd get food, water, a bed, and a shower but it would a glorified prison. Besides, she'd be back on the streets upon being released anyways. She would not go. No fancy, gun wielding, woman FBI agent was going to make her go anywhere. The only way to get what you want out here was to make deals. Raising her chin, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll answer your questions," she said defiantly, "as long as you promise not to put me in some mental hospital."

Emily's heart went out to the woman all over again. No, she would never send her someplace like that. While mental hospitals had the best psychiatrists and other medical staff on board, they didn't always help the clinically depressed. Sometimes the depressed left in worse shape than when they had arrived because the staff didn't always take the time to dig to the root of the issues or getting to know the patient as a person. Many times they'd prescribe Zoloft or another common antidepressant and call it good. While this woman needed to be on an antidepressant, Emily would not allow the poor woman to succumb to the pressure or the loneliness that hospitalization would give her.

"I would never do that," Emily replied truthfully, looking deep into the other woman's blue eyes. Keeping the eye contact, Emily prayed that this woman could see how truthful she was. Hopefully, she could gain this woman's trust. The woman nodded, seeming to believe her so Emily continued. "Can you tell me your name?"

"Mallory," she mumbled.

As pretty as the name was, it meant ill-omened as if she was destined to have a sad life since the day she was born.

"That's a pretty name," Emily responded.

"Not as pretty as Emily," Mallory mumbled her tone sad and Emily wondered if she liked the name she had been given at birth.

Smiling, Emily replied with a sincere thank you. "Like you saw Mallory, I'm with the FBI. I'm looking into some recent homicides in the area. Can I show you some pictures?" She didn't receive a vocal answer from Mallory, only a light shrug of the shoulders. Taking the pictures from the manila folder, Emily arranged them just so before handing them to Mallory to look at it. "Do you know these people?"

Tears sprang to Mallory's eyes and trickled down her face when she reached the picture of the red head. Extending a hand, Emily comfortingly placed it on Mallory's shoulder. The young woman flinched at the contact at first, but did not pull away. "I don't know names or anything," she replied quietly. "Only nicknames."

"That's fine," Emily replied.

"I recognize them. Ginger, I knew the best. We looked out for each other. Out here you don't make too many friends. Some are mean. You stick to your own territory and mind your own business. But yes, they lived out here."

Sighing, Emily looked over her shoulder to see Derek walking towards her. "Mallory, I think you might be able to help us with this case." She said. "Would you like to come to the police station and answer a few more questions? I promise from there I will take you anywhere that you want to go."

"If it'll help."

From the brief contact she had with Mallory so far, Emily could tell that she had a kind heart. Smiling, Emily nodded and removed her hand from Mallory's shoulder. Mallory's tears stopped and Derek walked up next to them.

"Mallory, this is my partner, Derek," Emily introduced. "Derek, this is Mallory." Derek was polite and shook Mallory's hand, all the while shooting Emily a confused look. They never used first names for the job unless they were speaking to children. To adults, they always introduced themselves as Agent Prentiss and Agent Morgan, never Emily and Derek. However, Emily didn't answer his question. Instead, she just shot him a glance that seemed to tell him to trust her. "Mallory's going to go back to the station with us and help us on the case."

**xXx**

"She's a person, not a stray cat or something," Derek muttered to himself as he watched Emily interact with Mallory. They were now back at the police station and Mallory was able to give them some more information that might be helpful to them. But that had been some time ago. Now, Emily spent her time in another conference room with Mallory. He wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a scrabble game out. The conference room the two women were in was situated right next door to the one that the team had set up shop in. A window separated the two so Derek could easily see what was going on between his wife and this girl.

Not too far away, Reid was working on the geographical profile. He was supposed to be going through the evidence, putting together a preliminary profile with Rossi while Hotch and JJ gave a press conference to warn people about a serial killer on the streets of Bluffdale. Although he was only go after the wealthy and homeless, it was best to warn the entire public and shut down his victim pool completely.

Hearing a sigh, Morgan turned his head to see David Rossi standing beside him, peering through the glass to watch Emily and Mallory as well. Pointing to the two women in the other room, Rossi said, "Something tells me that that woman has been through hell." He never took his eyes off of them to look at Derek as he spoke. "Maybe it's a good thing she's being shown a glimpse of heaven."

"This is heaven?" Derek asked skeptically.

Rossi turned his head to meet the younger man's gaze. "No," he said, "But knowing that someone cares can feel a lot like it though."

**xXx**

Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, Mallory looked down at the game board between her and Emily. It was weird. She didn't trust anybody, but having known Emily such a short time, Mallory found herself opening up about her life. But Emily seemed different than most people. Emily seemed to genuinely care. Being alone for most of her life, Mallory was able to read people. She knew when someone was genuine or not. Emily was genuine, not like a lot of other people that Mallory had known throughout her life. Placing a few tiled letters down on the Scrabble board, Mallory spelt added an R to the already existing word, L-I-V-E before using that R to go down, spelling out R-O-S-E-S. She knew Emily had only suggested a game to break the ice as they got to know each other, but Mallory was grateful for it.

"Oh," Emily breathed, sounding a little disappointed as she totaled up Mallory's score. "You're doing better than I am."

Emily smiled.

Mallory smiled.

Maybe Steve Maraboli was right when he said, "Smile at strangers and you just might change a life." Emily mused, placing down her own lettered tiles onto the game board. Even now Mallory seemed more relaxed as she interacted with her. Right now it almost seemed like the depressed woman was miles away as she played a game and talked to Emily and in her place was a happy, care-free woman. However, Emily knew better. While Mallory smiled, her eyes didn't. Instead, they showed a deep sadness that would not be easily fixed. But for now, a smile, a game, and a friend easily helped alleviate that deep sadness.

"You want to talk about?" Emily's voice was quiet.

"About what?" Mallory asked in reply. "My arms? There's nothing to talk about it."

Some people could see the scars and ask her what happened to her arm. They didn't know self-harming when they saw it. People like Emily however, knew it when they saw it. One day, Emily prayed that Mallory would talk to her about her cutting, but for now she was content to let it go and talk about something else.

"Where are you from?" Emily settled for instead, continuing to make small talk. After getting to know Mallory more as person might help her feel more comfortable to have deeper, meaningful conversations.

"Salt Lake City."

"Do your parents still live there?" Emily asked, curiously.

Mallory's blue eyes came up to meet Emily's brown ones momentarily before she glanced back down at the table. "I never knew my dad."

"And your mom?" Emily continued.

"Was a druggie that was never around," Mallory explained. "Last I heard she moved to Miami with some ass hippie of a boyfriend."

No wonder Mallory felt this deep loneliness. From a young age she was left alone to fend for herself. The poor girl never knew a mother's love. As odd as it seemed, Emily wanted to show her what love was and teach her that it is okay to depend on others when you need help. Glancing over Mallory's shoulder,

Emily peered through the window showing the happenings in the other meeting room. She caught Derek carefully watching her. Pushing her chair out, she stood and smiled down at Mallory. "I'm thirsty," she stated. "I'm going to find something to drink. Would you like anything?"

"Sure," Mallory replied with a shrug of her shoulders.

Emily left the room, leaving Mallory alone.


	5. Chapter 5

Sighing, Emily entered the conference room where Reid, Morgan, and Rossi were diligently working. Standing in the doorway, she watched Derek work for a few long seconds. She had already made up her mind as to what she wanted to do. Knowing Derek, he probably wouldn't like her idea, but she was determined to do this. With long strides, she was by Derek's side in three steps. Placing a hand on his back, she leaned into him to speak privately to him. "Can we talk in private?" Her voice was quiet and her tone insinuated that whatever she wanted to talk about was important. Receiving a nod of agreement from her husband, Emily led him outside the conference room and down an empty hallway so that they could talk. Halfway down the hallway, Emily stopped and rubbed her palms over her pants and took a deep breath.

"What's up?" Derek asked concerned, placing a hand on her upper arm. He'd be lying if he said that he wasn't worried about Emily. She'd been spending a lot of time with Mallory, getting attached. While attachments were good, they were also harmful in this job. When the case was over, he and Emily would fly home to D.C. and Mallory would forget that Emily Prentiss even existed and nothing would change in her life. It was best not to get attached in their line of work.

Shaking her head, Emily released the breath that she hadn't of known she'd been holding. "I want to help her, Derek," she confessed. Her dark eyes were sincere and full of determination, Derek noticed as she looked directly into his dark eyes. Of course Emily wanted to help Mallory. That was no surprise to Derek. After all, Emily was by nature a caring and nurturing person. In fact Derek would have been more surprised if Emily didn't want to help the young woman. But how did Emily want to help Mallory? Their hands were tied here. They couldn't do a whole lot to ensure a better life for her.

Sighing, Derek nodded his head in agreement with her statement. Although Emily had spent more time with Mallory than he had, Derek wanted to help her too. The woman lived on the streets. Someone so young and with a whole future ahead of them shouldn't be there. At least that was his opinion anyway. Not only that, but there was a sad, almost depressing aura about Mallory. She didn't have a certain zeal for life. Dying seemed like a better option than living to her. So yes, Mallory needed help. And if Emily wanted to help her, then Derek would do everything he could to help Emily help Mallory.

"How?"

Dropping his gaze, Emily averted her eyes and looked down their shoes. Her actions told him that she was unsure of what she should say or unsure of how he would react to whatever she said. Avoiding eye contact now only told Derek that Emily was uncomfortable. Footsteps in the hall, coming towards them did nothing to help. To make Emily feel a little more comfortable, Derek waved the officer off and used his finger to push Emily's chin upwards so that she was looking at him once again. Her dark hair fell back behind her ears and she closed her eyes, pacing herself.

"Don't get mad," she mumbled, barely audible to Derek. Furrowing his brows, Derek wondered why he would get mad at Emily for wanting to help someone. It was one of the many things that had made him fall in love with her in the first place. "I haven't talked to Mallory yet or anything," Emily continued. Her voice was still quiet, but she rushed her words as if they couldn't come out of her mouth fast enough. "But I want to take Mallory back to D.C. to live. With us."

Now it was Derek's turn to release a breath he hadn't know he'd been holding. So that's what Emily wanted to do. She wanted to bring this depressed young woman home with them. What was going through Emily's mind, Derek wondered. Mallory was a human being, not a stray animal. Wanting to make a stray cat a pet was one thing, but wanting to invite a total stranger into their home to live with them was another.

Derek remained silent for quite some time and Emily wondered what was going through his mind. How did he feel about this? She couldn't be sure, just gaging his facial expressions. Right now his face was blank. His eyes were wide, his brow raised and Emily knew that what she had said surprised him. That was understandable though. His eyes narrowed though and Emily knew what was coming next. Her eyes narrowed too.

"No," Derek eventually spoke, shaking his head.

It was now Emily's turn to raise her brows in question. "Excuse me?" She asked him, pouring her sass, sarcasm, and emotion in that question as her hand went to her hip.

"You heard me, Emily."

His voice was firm. If the alpha male was speaking to anybody else, the conversation would be over and whatever he said would be it. However, Emily was just as stubborn and strong-willed as he was. She wasn't afraid to stand her ground. Dark eyes narrowed and met another pair of dark eyes in staring contest as if it were a battle of will and wits.

"She needs help, Derek!" She seethed.

"And living with us is the only way to do that?" Derek questioned haughtily.

This was strange for them. Most of the time, they were both very understanding individuals. Because they seemed to understand things better than most, they hardly ever raised their voices even when the person they were speaking to give them attitude. And never did they raise their voices to each other. They always communicated well. Besides ever since they met that fateful day in the BAU when she replaced his former partner Elle, they had always been so intuitive with one another. Words weren't always needed. But now, they both had a point to make and when one is so focused they get blinded by tunnel vision, yelling seems like the only viable option to make them listen.

"Yes!" Emily shrieked.

"Why do you think you have to do this?"

"Why do you have to question me on everything?!"

**xXx**

One thing that Hotch didn't expect to hear upon entering any precinct was bickering officers or two of his agents to be more exact. Shouting voices immediately reached his ears and the stern Unit Chief wandered in the direction of the familiar voices. The voices grew louder as he came nearer to the bickering agents. The officers, detectives, and the rest of his team watched curiously from afar as the two agents went at it. He found Morgan and Prentiss halfway down an empty hallway toe to toe and head to head.

Morgan and Prentiss arguing with each other was almost unheard of, Hotch mused as he watched them. Both of them were both independent and stubborn as hell and both of them had an "it's me against the world" mentality. While both of them had trust issues, they trusted each other like they trusted themselves and when they were together they worked well together as if it were them against the world. Hotch had witnessed their "it's us against the world" mentality when they had announced their engagement. Remembering that day as if it were yesterday, Hotch recalled reminding them that the bureau frowned upon intimate relationships upon agents that worked together out in the field. He had reminded them that while one wouldn't necessarily have to leave the BAU; one of them would have to transfer to another team. They both refused and wouldn't take no for an answer as they told Hotch either he kept both of them or they both left. Strauss wasn't too happy with Hotch's final decision but agreed because she didn't want two empty positions on a team at once.

Now though, Morgan and Prentiss both had their "it's me against the world" mentality as they fought with each other, knowing that neither one would give in to the other. Whatever they were arguing about was non-negotiable as they were far from reaching an understanding.

Clearing his throat as he stood in front of them, Hotch waited to get their attention. Once both of his agents turned to look at him, he cleared his throat once again. "I want to speak to both of you outside now." His voice was quite stern and he abruptly turned on his heel without waiting for an answer from either one of them and led the way outside. Hearing two very distinct sighs behind him, Hotch knew for a fact without looking that Morgan and Prentiss glanced at each other, both letting out as sigh as they followed their boss to be reprimanded for arguing. The late afternoon sun shone overhead as Hotch stopped out onto the front steps of the police station. Leading the now silent agents off to the side a little ways, Hotch stood as still as a statue with narrowed eyes. His stern gaze simply told Morgan and Prentiss that he was not happy. Neither agent dared say something to their superior. Taking a deep breath, Hotch began to speak. The tone of his voice was clear and leveled with reason. "When you came to me stating that you wanted to marry, as your superior, I agreed with you not to transfer either one of you to another team because you promised you would keep your relationship out of the office and the field and stay focused. And as your friend, I congratulated you. To be honest, I'm a little surprised at how well you've kept your promise." Still, Morgan and Prentiss remained silent with bowed heads like school children being sent to the principal's office as they waited for Hotch to finish his lecture. "I don't care what is going on between you right now," Hotch stated, perhaps a little too harshly. "Just make sure you have it taken care of by morning." His subordinates only nodded. "If this issue is not resolved," Hotch continued, "you will not be working together the rest of the case and when we arrive back to Quantico, one of you will be transferred to another team. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir," Emily mumbled. Derek nodded in agreement.

Knowing his agents understood, Hotch left them outside and reentered the station to continue working before he sent his team to the hotel to get some sleep for the night.

**xXx**

Once Hotch had disappeared back inside, Emily turned so she was facing Derek again. Placing her hands on her hips, she sighed. Derek turned to face her as well. "What are we going to do?" She asked, her voice quiet and uncertain.

Derek sighed too, shaking his head. "We'll talk about this later, Em. Let's just get back to work."

"Fine," Emily shrugged before disappearing back inside.

Burying his face in his hands, Derek let out another frustrated sigh, wondering when and how he and Emily would get over their differences and come up with a solution they both agreed with.

**xXx**

By the time Emily made it back to Mallory, she had completely forgotten about bringing something to drink back with her. Entering the conference room once again, Emily found the younger woman sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall with her knees up to her chin. She was crying. Depressed people cried a lot and many times because there was simply nothing else they felt like doing. Emily understood this and let the girl cry. Settling on the floor herself, Emily scooted closer to Mallory so that their shoulders were lightly touching. Not too close to invade Mallory's space, but close enough to let her know that she was there if she needed a friend.

The pair sat there just like that in complete silence except for Mallory's sobs for quite a few minutes. When Emily heard the sobs lessen, she broke the silence. "Is there someplace you want me to take you?" Emily asked, keeping her voice calm and caring, "a shelter or someplace?" Mallory shook her head no, not bothering to even look at Emily. Although Mallory couldn't see her, Emily nodded, trying to think of something else. "Okay," she drawled. "Well, you can't stay here and I'm not letting you go back out on the street…" Her voice trailed off as she continued to think of what she could do. An idea popped into Emily's head and she stood up. Facing Mallory, she looked down and held out her hand. "Come on," she said. Mallory picked her head up and her sad blue eyes met Emily's chocolate colored ones. Although she wasn't sure at first, Mallory grabbed a hold of Emily's hand and allowed her to pull her too her feet. "I'm taking you to the hotel. You can stay with me."

"Are you…" Mallory started to protest, but her question trailed off, afraid of the answer she might receive if she finished it.

"I'm not taking no for an answer," Emily stated matter-of-factly. Smiling, Emily slung her arm around Mallory's shoulders and squeezed. "Let's go," she added, nodding towards the exit. "What are you hungry for?"

"McDonald's."

Emily nodded as if contemplating the answer. "I could go for a Big Mac."

**xXx**

Rossi was driving himself, Morgan, and Reid to the hotel to get some sleep that evening. The drive was silent as each passenger had their own thoughts to contemplate. In the backseat, Reid was staring at a map of the city. In the front passenger seat of the SUV, Morgan was watching the world pass by as he looked outside his window. Rossi, although driving, kept averting his gaze from the road ahead to glance at Morgan every so often. The younger man was deep in thought. He had been ever since Hotch had reprimanded him and Prentiss for arguing on the job. And as much as Rossi wanted to say something, he remained silent until he knew that Morgan wanted to talk. He didn't have to wait long. The silence was eventually broken by a heavy sigh.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Rossi asked, glancing over at Morgan.

Shrugging, Morgan sighed again unsure of what he should say to the older man. Honestly, he didn't know exactly what he was feeling. Not well enough to be able to put it into words for another to understand. Shaking his head, he mumbled, "Emily."

Rossi only nodded at Derek's comment, as if he understood exactly what he was saying. And maybe he did understand what Derek was saying. It was no secret that the couple had been fighting. The whole police station had heard them. Afterwards, both Derek and Emily seemed a little on edge, seemingly avoiding eye contact with each other. Although it's been a few hours, Derek was still affected by his disagreement with his wife. Besides he should know better than anyone what it feels like to have an upset spouse.

"Mallory," Derek's voice once again mumbled.

Now the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together in Rossi's head. Derek had been fighting with Emily about Mallory. What about Mallory, he wasn't sure though. Ever since Mallory showed up, Rossi had been keeping a close eye on her, Derek, and Emily. Mallory and Emily seemed to becoming fast friends. Which Rossi was grateful for; that girl needed a friend like Emily. Derek on the other hand seemed almost aloof when it came to Mallory. He chose to keep an eye on Emily, almost spying on her. The man couldn't be blamed though. He was only keeping an eye on his wife, making sure that she didn't emotionally hurt herself by getting attached.

"What about Mallory?" Rossi asked, a raise of his brow.

Letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, Derek explained. "Emily wants Mallory to come back to D.C. with us. To live."

Derek's confession about Emily surprised Rossi because it didn't sound like something the Emily Prentiss he knew would do. Emily was a strong, confident, and independent woman and she didn't trust easily. She could know someone her whole life and still not fully trust them. Yet she was caring. If she and Derek ever decided to have kids, she'd make an amazing mother. A few years before Emily had offered to take in a teenage girl who had survived a home invasion. But then she was completely single and didn't have a husband to think about. Not to mention, Emily had gotten to know the girl quite well during the case and had known her a few days. Besides the teenager was remarkably strong and brave even after watching a pair of foster brothers kill both of her parents and her little brother.

Mallory was completely different than that teenager though. For one, she was older and old enough to live on her own. Two, she was depressed. While she was good at hiding the scars on her arms, Rossi had still been able to catch a glimpse when the sleeve of her sweatshirt played peekaboo by inching upwards as she stretched. He immediately knew them for what they were. She needed help. There was no denying that. Emily had only known Mallory a few hours and was already suggesting that Mallory come live with her and Derek. There was only one thing Rossi could do.

He could only pray that Emily knew what she was doing.

Again, Rossi glanced in Derek's direction. "That doesn't sound like Emily."

"I know," Derek agreed, letting out a frustrated sigh.

Apparently, he didn't know what to do or think. Part of him wanted to go along with Emily's plan because it would make her happy and nothing was as quite as important to him as Emily's happiness. The other part of him completely disagreed with Emily because it wasn't conventional and there was a chance that Emily could emotionally get hurt by becoming too invested in what he deemed a lost cause.

"I don't know if this helps you or not," Rossi said, once again glancing in Derek's direction as he navigated the SUV through the streets of Bluffdale. "But there are only a handful of people that Emily fully trusts. One of them is you." Derek already knew that as he wondered what Rossi was getting at exactly. "As long as I've known her, I've only once seen her put her heart out on the line. And that was for you. When it comes to love, she doesn't take chances."

"What are you saying?" Derek asked with a shake of his head.

"If she's willing to get hurt in order to help that young woman, then she must have one hell of a damn good reason to do it."

Rossi was right. Emily wasn't one to make impulsive decisions that she would later regret when it came to matters such love and trusting someone. Every decision she made was always premeditated carefully with every possible outcome thoroughly analyzed. It had always been her against the world as she had learned early on that people only hurt and disappoint.

"Are you saying I should just go along with her idea?" Derek asked with a tinge of sarcasm evident in his tone as he rolled his eyes.

"No," Rossi replied. His voice was calm and contemplative. "But maybe you should trust her judgment."

"I do," Derek huffed, crossing his arms. His eyes never left the window.

"Do you?"


	6. Chapter 6

Pacing around his hotel room, Derek couldn't get Rossi's words out of his head. Hours later and the older man's wisdom still lingered as much as Derek didn't want it to. Emily Prentiss was the most stubborn and impulsive person he had ever met. Of course she denied that claim and reversed it by saying that he was the most stubborn and impulsive person she had ever met. Both claims were true. Their stubbornness was often unmatched and when it came down to the job, they were impulsive. If it meant saving a life or making sure that justice was served, neither one of them hesitated to break protocol to do what they thought was best. Many times, Derek had questioned her decisions in the field. Every time she argued with him telling him that if roles were reversed, he'd be doing the same thing. While he didn't like to admit it, knowing himself, Derek knew Emily's words were the truth.

_Why do you have to question me on everything?!_

His dispute with Emily was still at the forefront of his mind. The words that she'd spoken earlier refused to leave as if they'd taken up permanent residence in his brain for eternity. She and Rossi were both right. He did question her on everything because he did not trust her judgment, always fearing that she was too impulsive. Perhaps it was foolish to fear her being too impulsive, but he worried about her. He just wanted to protect her. If he couldn't protect her, then Derek knew he failed as a friend, a partner, and a husband.

But Derek didn't know if he could protect Emily from the heartbreak he knew awaited her at the end of this road. For he saw the end and it wasn't pretty. If Emily experienced the bitter, devastating end that was bound to come, he feared what would happen to her. It could break her. The strong, confidant, woman wouldn't exist anymore. Instead, she'd be frail and doubtful. She would question herself and her abilities. Unfortunately, Emily couldn't see the end. If she thought with her head, she might be able to. But, Emily was thinking with her heart, a most endearing characteristic.

Stopping in front of the mirror, Derek stared at his reflection. His reflection was deceiving. The reflection showed a confident man who had it all put together. That couldn't be any farther from the truth, because right now he was a total mess. He didn't have it all figured out. He questioned his wife's motives and her judgment. He wanted her to stop being the wonderfully, caring woman she was just so that she wouldn't get hurt. Running his hands over his head, Derek sighed, unsure of what to do.

_One of you will be transferred to another team._

Derek enjoyed working with Emily and he worked better with her than he did with anyone else and it wasn't just because they were married. Long before they even thought about marriage, they worked well together. They seemed to have a deep, personal connection that the rest of the team didn't share. This connection had been felt by Derek and Emily the first time that they'd been partnered together in the field. From there, their connection, partnership, friendship, and romantic relationship only grew. And Derek knew that if one of them was transferred, not only would it upset the dynamics of the team, but hinder the close friendships the team shared with each other.

The BAU was everything that Emily wanted and for her to be happy, Derek knew that he would tell Hotch to transfer him. Garcia, he knew would be upset, but she wouldn't blame Emily. That woman probably loved Emily just about as much as he did. Reid would take it the hardest. Whenever somebody left, he took it personally as if he had failed them in some way. Derek never wanted to hurt Spencer. That kid didn't need another man he looked up to, to walk away from the team. As much as Spencer liked Emily, Derek knew he would blame her for his departure and cause an unrepairable riff between his friendships with Emily.

_What are we going to do?_

Emily wanted to solve this problem as quickly and efficiently as possible so nobody got hurt. Unfortunately, he had blown her off, still upset with her. The minutes were slowly ticking by, turning into hours. Hotch warned them. They had work this out. Not only for the sake of working together but for the sake of their relationship as well.

Glancing at the clock, Derek knew what he needed to do.

**xXx**

Fast food wrappers still lingered on the little table by the window, but Emily was in no hurry to clean the mess up. Running her fingers through her still damp hair from the shower, Emily held the black tresses atop her head as she closed her eyes and breathed. The sound of water cascading from the shower comforted her. It represented that Mallory was safe with her. Although she had only known Mallory a couple of hours, Emily felt an almost maternal bond to the younger woman. Mallory didn't have anything. She didn't have a job, a home, or a family. She didn't have anyone or anything, but the hope of a better future. If Emily didn't do something, that hope would be completely gone. But what could she do? With Derek against her, her hands were tied because any decisions she made didn't just affect her. They affected her husband too.

Derek was probably still upset with her, Emily realized as she sat down at the edge of one of the beds. Although they worked so close together, they hadn't spoken since they agreed they would discuss their dispute later. That was some time ago already and Derek hadn't made any movement to talk to her. Granted that she'd been avoiding him as well, but still Emily wanted to get past this.

Closing her eyes, Emily tried not to think about Hotch's threat to transfer one of them to another team. She didn't want that to happen and she doubted Derek wanted that either. They always worked so well together and the team was a family. But if one of them had to leave, Emily knew she would. Staying and making Derek leave wouldn't be fair to him. He had been a part of the team long before her dreams of being in the Behavioral Analysis Unit were even possible of coming true.

Before anymore thoughts of one of them having to leave the team could fill her mind, a heavy knock pounded against the door. Her eyes opened in annoyance. Right now she just wanted to be alone to think. Closing her eyes, Emily ignored the incessant knocking. Another knock. And another before it was followed by a gruff voice.

"Emily, open the door!"

Derek.

If there was one person that she wanted to avoid more than ever right now it was Derek Morgan.

But the pounding on the door did not stop and if she didn't open the door soon, he'd probably kick it in. And knowing her bad luck she'd probably be the one stuck paying for the damages.

Sighing, Emily pushed herself off the bed and walked the few feet to the door. One look through the peephole confirmed that her caller was indeed none other than Derek Morgan. Turning the door knob, Emily slowly pulled the door open a little ways so she could poke her head out. "What do you want?" She asked. Her voice was laced with contempt as she peered at him through the narrow slits of her eyes.

"I just want to talk," Derek replied with an exasperated sigh.

Her tone was like steel as she replied with, "I don't want to talk now."

Ignoring her, Derek used his strength and pushed the door the rest of the way open, causing Emily to jump back. Entering the room, he shut the door behind him and crossed his arms over his chest. Emily did the same, staring back at him with a raise of her brows. Moving closer to the middle of the room and closer to Emily, Derek realized that he wanted to be as close to Emily as he could in this moment. As much as he hated Emily's idea of having Mallory live with them, Derek still wanted to understand her argument and why she was so adamant about it.

"If you're not going to talk, can you please leave?" Her tone was like ice, but it didn't faze Derek at all. He was used to her condescending sarcastic remarks when she wasn't in a good mood.

That's when Derek realized he had lost himself in thought, wondering about the reasons why Emily was so adamant about helping Mallory. Clearing his head of all thoughts, Derek inhaled a deep breath before speaking. His eyes looked straight into Emily's as if they were an open doorway to see right through to her soul. "I don't think Mallory should live with us."

Her arms still crossed defiantly over her chest, Emily shook her head. "I don't think we should have this discussion when Mallory's in the shower."

"She's here?" Derek asked his voice almost at a shout as he raised his eyebrows. "Jesus, Emily!" He exclaimed, uncrossing his arms and rubbing them over his face. Interlacing his fingers together behind his head, Derek turned his back to her. Right now it was as if his mind was in overdrive as several different thoughts raced through his mind like Thoroughbreds in the Kentucky Derby.

Frowning, Emily uncrossed her arms and lunged forward, grabbing his muscular bicep in a tight grip. "Morgan." Her tone was like venom.

When they first met, she always called him Morgan, hardly ever Derek. When they became an actual couple, she started calling him Derek more and more. Now, there were only three times she ever called him Morgan. Those times include when they're joking around, working a case, or when she was angry with him. Derek knew by the way she called him by his surname and by the tight grip she had on him that she was upset. Dropping his arms, Derek turned around so that he was facing her once more. Her arm dropped back to her side, but her gaze on him was like ice. She was ready to fight.

"What?" His tone matched the intensity of hers.

Glossy tears were beginning to fog Emily's vision, but she refused to let them fall. Tears meant weakness and showed vulnerability. Derek Morgan had always known Emily Prentiss as a strong woman. She would not give him a chance to see how weak and vulnerable she really was at times. Emily didn't care if Derek didn't like her idea of helping Mallory. Whether he decided to support her decision or not, Emily was going to help Mallory. Hands on her hips, Emily narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. The tears were long forgotten and no longer threatening to fall. Taking a strong step forward, Emily made sure that she was in his face. Poking a finger to the center of his chest, she said, "I am going to help Mallory whether you like it or not." Her tone was strong and forceful telling him that she was not going to be taking no for an answer. "And if you don't like it Morgan," she added with even more venom in her voice. "Then you can find someplace else to sleep when we get back to D.C."

This was far from over. He was not some weak husband that she could just walk all over. "God damn it!" He cursed, grabbing her wrists and pinning them to her sides as he backed her farther into the room.

Emily gulped, stepping backward, cowering away from him. When the back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, Emily sank into the mattress, looking up at her captor. Derek stood in front of her so that she couldn't escape. Derek Morgan was a good guy. She'd witnessed that on several occasions over the years. Never had she been afraid of him. Until now. Emily knew that Derek was strong. She'd seen him go up against some of the toughest criminals and never flinch. If he wanted to, he could easily be sending her to the emergency room and she couldn't do anything to fight back. His eyes were angry and full of hatred and Emily wondered if he really would hit her. Even if she was a little afraid of Derek right now, she kept eye contact with him as if she weren't afraid.

Her gaze was almost taunting as if she were daring him to hit her. And right now, Derek did. He wanted to hit her so bad right now. Who did she think she was talking to him like that? Weren't wives supposed to show their husbands a little respect? It was taking all of his self-control to not give into his desires of smacking her across the face. Balling his fist, Derek shook it at his side, resisting the temptation to raise it.

Shaking his current thoughts from his head, Derek took a step back, giving them both room to breathe. Smoothing his hand over the top of his head, Derek turned around that his back was to her once more. As he took a deep breath, he knew that Emily knew what he was thinking. He didn't want her to see him weak.

"I don't want to see you get hurt," he admitted in a low whisper.

Just like that, all the pent up anger that she felt for him in that moment vanished at his confession. It amazed her how fast her mood could change around Derek. They could be fighting one moment and loving the next as if they were bipolar. But that's just the way love works sometimes. Sighing, Emily pushed herself off the bed and took a step closer to him. Outstretching her arm, Emily placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. As if it were pulling her closer to him, Emily came closer so that her hand was moving along his upper back in comforting circles as she rested her head on his shoulder. Gently, she placed a tender kiss to the nape of his neck and she could feel the tension leave his body.

"I'm not going to get hurt," Emily whispered. Her tone was quiet like his, but matter-of-fact.

Shaking his head in disagreement, Derek replied, "You don't know that, Em."

Derek was right. She didn't know that. But Derek Morgan was not her boss and could not tell her what to do. Feeling her anger rise once more, Emily stepped away from him and turned his body so that he was facing her once more. "Who cares if I get hurt?" She asked, her voice dripping with venom. Poking him in the rib cage, she narrowed her eyes and her tone was now accusing. "At least I would have done something to help her!"

Grabbing her wrist, Derek forced her hand back to her side and held it there so that she could not move it. "There are other ways to help her, Emily!"

Unfortunately, Derek kept underestimating her strength. Ripping her arm away from Derek's grasp, Emily pounded on his chest as hard she could as if she could physically pound some sense into him, making him see things the way she did. "No there isn't!" She shouted and pounded on his chest as if it was a bongo drum, but Derek just stood still and took the abuse. "You don't understand, Derek!"

Of course he didn't understand, but he would if she would just open up to him about this. She didn't always have to play the strong silent type. Shaking his head, he backed away from her and walked to the door. Opening the door, Derek looked back at the surprised woman still standing in the middle of the room.

"I don't want to fight with you, Emily," he said. And then he was gone.

The door closed behind him and Emily found herself rushing after him once the door closed. Turning the knob, Emily found herself unable to open it. Derek didn't want to see her right now. Space would do them some good before they spoke words they'd regret. So instead, Emily dropped her hand and turned around, sliding against the closed door until she sat on her butt with her long legs stretched out before her. And she cried.

She cried for Mallory who so desperately needed to feel the love of someone who cares.

She cried for Derek who didn't understand how much of herself she saw in Mallory to just not do something.

Lastly, she cried for herself and the words she'd spoken in anger to Derek, hoping that he hadn't of taken some of those words to heart.

**xXx**

The water was almost scalding hot, threatening to burn her sensitive skin, but still Mallory did not want to leave the shower. But having scrubbed the dirt and grime away from her body and her long, blonde hair, Mallory stepped out of the shower, not feeling the filthiness of her life that she wore like a coat. Turning the shower off, the young woman was met with silence as she grabbed a towel from the towel rack and began to pat her body dry. But the silence did not last as most good things in Mallory's life didn't. Just as Mallory had tied her hair up in another towel to dry, shouting was heard from the main room. She instantly recognized one of the voices as Emily's. The other belonged to Emily's partner, Derek. No, not just partner; Emily had mentioned that she was actually married to Derek.

Putting on the clean clothes that Emily had given her, Mallory tried to ignore the shouting coming from the other room. After all, it wasn't any of her business of what they were arguing about. Yet, curiosity got the better of her and Mallory tiptoed to the door. Pressing her hear to the door, Mallory found that she was able to better hear the words being shouted from the main room.

_I don't think Mallory should live with us._

They were talking about her, Mallory realized as she held her breath; afraid that if she breathed, she might miss something. Wondering why they would be talking about her, Mallory tried to get even closer to the closed door separating her and the fighting couple. So Emily wanted to give her a home. Derek didn't. What was so horrible about her that Derek wouldn't want to know her? Maybe he could just see the humiliating failure of her life whenever he looked at her. Just one look at her and he knew that she was not worthy of love.

_Jesus, Emily!_

That one line told Mallory that Derek seemed more upset with Emily than her. But the man was upset. They always blamed the person they loved the most for the problems. By morning, Mallory knew that Emily would fall into his arms and apologize. They would kiss and live happily ever after without so much as thought about her.

The shouting continued but Mallory found it harder to make out without leaving the safe confines of the bathroom. After a while the shouting had stopped altogether and Mallory wondered if the make-up kiss had happened sooner than she expected. But Mallory had heard enough anyways. She didn't need anyone to tell her. She wasn't stupid. Mallory Parker had a unique gift of knowing exactly when she wasn't wanted.

Tears coursed down her face as if they were skiers finding the safest way down the mountain. Stepping away from the door, Mallory didn't want to hear the rest of the conversation. Slumping to the tiled linoleum floor, she cried.

Mallory cried a lot and many times she didn't know why she was crying at all. This time she did though. She cried for thinking that Emily was different than all of the others that had come into her life saying they wanted to help. So many said that, but every single one of them never did a damn thing. Emily had acted as if she actually genuinely cared about her. Wanting to feel loved so badly, Mallory had blinded herself and actually believed that Emily could help her. She cried because she was stupid. She shouldn't have trusted Emily. Trusting people was exactly what got people hurt and made them distrustful. It also made some like Mallory to hate themselves even more when the trust they placed in one person was broken.

Mallory just wanted this nightmare to end. Wanting to numb the pain of rejection and self-loathing, she reached for her few personal belongings and searched for her jackknife. Unable to find it amongst her things, Mallory cursed. Emily must have taken it. Anger swelled up in her as she frantically searched the tiny room for something else that would do just as much damage. If shattered, the tiny light bulb above the sink would create many sharp pieces that could cause the damage she needed done to numb the pain she felt deep inside. The noise would without a doubt be heard in the main room but Mallory needed to do something. She couldn't continue to feel this way. But the shouting had once again started up. Hopefully the shouting would drown out the unmistakable sound of breaking glass. It didn't take long for Mallory to reach a decision. Climbing onto the sink, she reached up and gradually twisted the light bulb until it was loosened enough to be released from its hold. Holding the light bulb as if it were a prized trophy, Mallory remained kneeling on the sink and kissed the cool glass once for luck. Then with as much strength as she could muster she threw it at the ground. She was right. The shattering glass did make an unmistakable sound but no thundering footsteps ran to the bathroom. No fists pounded on the door as concerned people asked if she was alright. Mallory Parker was completely alone and she cried even more. Hopping off the sink, Mallory fell to the floor and grabbed the biggest and what looked to be the sharpest broken piece of glass she could find. Settling herself against the bathtub, Mallory stretched her left arm out and closed her eyes as the glass pierced her skin, going deeper and deeper. The wound bled like crazy but Mallory didn't care as she slid the glass from the cut and moved the piece of glass to another spot on her arm and cut again. And again. And again.

Slowly, the pain that Mallory wanted to go away was beginning to numb. Tossing the glass to the side, Mallory ignored the spurting blood leaking to the floor as she grabbed a wad of toilet paper. Putting pressure on the cuts, Mallory tried to stop the bleeding. But, the bleeding wouldn't stop. Never before had she cut herself that deep, that many times. A small smile lifted her lips as she wondered if this would have done the trick to finally stop this pain once and for all. Was it even possible to bleed to death from a few cuts on the arm? But as the spurting blood slowly stopped, Mallory frowned and tossed the soiled paper across the room. If she couldn't end the nightmare that was her life, she could at least get away from the people that she thought she could depend on.

Emily might be upset and worried about her at first, but she'd get over it. She would go back home with Derek and eventually Mallory and the case they worked would all become nothing but a bad memory to her. No, Mallory knew that she had to do this. There was no use in staying around people that only pretended to want you. That only pretended to care.

Mallory had to do it. Her mind was already made up.

By the time that Emily Prentiss awoke in the morning, Mallory Parker would be gone.


	7. Chapter 7

"Damn," Emily muttered under her breath when the alarm blared, waking the half asleep FBI agent from her slumber. Yawning, Emily threw the covers off of her and sat up. Stretching, she opened her eyes and looked to the other bed where Mallory had fallen asleep the night before. Only this time, the bed was completely empty. The rumpled sheets confirmed that the younger woman had been there. Panic settled in like an incurable disease. Alarmed, Emily rushed to the bathroom.

Broken glass, bloody sheets of crumpled toilet paper and small droplets of blood was the scene that Emily had come across. It almost looked like a crime scene that she and Derek might analyze during a case. But it wasn't a crime scene. It confirmed that Emily had failed to help Mallory and the young woman had fled sometime during the night.

God, what was the matter with her? She was a profiler for heaven's sake! She should have seen this coming. But she'd been too wrapped up in herself and angry at Derek to see the deep levels of pain that Mallory was in. Why was she so stupid? She knew that Mallory was in a dark place with a fragile mental state. Arguing with Derek shouldn't have happened. At least not some place where Mallory could have overheard the shouting. Hating herself at the moment, Emily couldn't help but let the tears that were fogging her vision to run down her pale cheeks.

She cried for her own incompetency because she should have done something more to make Mallory feel loved. Yes, Mallory needed help and probably required more help than Emily could give, but more importantly, Mallory needed to feel loved. She needed to know that someone cares for her. That someone loves her. Emily had failed to do just that.

She cried for Mallory because she had left in the middle of night hurting worse than when Emily had found her out on the street. Emily wanted love her and care for her so that if Mallory did choose to leave, she would be leaving with some sort of hope. Emily had failed to do that too.

She cried for Derek because she wasn't the kind of wife she'd promised she'd be. When they married, she had promised to love him, care for him, honor him, and defend him. She hadn't of done any of that since they'd met Mallory. Instead, she had cursed him, cared more for herself and a stranger, deliberately gone against his wishes and fought with him, and she had told him to find someplace else to sleep. Derek was probably still upset with her and she prayed he wasn't regretting his decision to marry her. Emily had failed to be a supportive and loving wife too.

Her list of mistakes in life seemed to be increasing at an alarming rate.

But Emily Prentiss was not the kind of woman to wallop in self-pity, trying to bargain with God to go back in time to erase the mistakes of her past. Instead, she was the kind of woman to own up to her mistakes and face the upward battles those mistakes sometimes caused.

It might have been too late to make amends with Mallory, but she could still go and apologize to Derek.

Not even bothering to get dressed or slip her slippers onto her feet, Emily wandered down the hall in a pair of shorts and a faded t-shirt to Derek's room.

Standing in front of Derek's closed door, Emily felt her courage leave her as she found herself unsure of what to say to him. Closing her eyes, Emily quickly swallowed her pride and raised her fist to knock. However, before she could announce her presence, the door flew open to reveal Derek dressed for the day. Surprised to see him, she lowered her fist to her side and stepped back.

"Emily?" he asked, her brows knotting together, confused to see her outside his hotel room. "Come in," he said, noticing her appearance and quickly ushering her inside the room so that they could talk. Closing the door behind her, Derek led her farther into the room. He sat down at the edge of his bed. She sat down on the edge of the other bed so that they were facing each other.

"I'm sorry." Her voice trembled and was so quiet, it was barely a whisper. Yet, Derek had heard her loud and clear. Normally, he would cup his ear with his hand sarcastically, asking her to repeat herself. But now wasn't the time for jokes and he knew that. Now was the time for him to listen whole heartedly to her as she poured her heart out to him.

At a loss for words, Derek found himself unsure of how to respond to her apology.

Before he could say something in reply, Emily continued.

With her gaze adverted away from Derek's eyes, Emily looked down at the ugly gray carpeting on the floor. "I shouldn't have been angry with you," she quietly admitted. "All you wanted to do was protect me." Shaking her head, a renegade tear fell from her eye. Why was she still crying, she had wiped her tears from earlier before she had thought of going to see Derek. Tears were a sign of weakness. Emily Prentiss was not weak. "It doesn't matter anyway, Mallory left."

Finding himself able to speak once again, Derek asked, "What?" His tone was quiet, but calm and full of concern for the sobbing brunette in front of him. "Why?" He asked, standing up and walking the short distance to her. Standing in front of her, Derek grabbed Emily's hands and pulled her to her feet.

"She must have heard us last night," Emily admitted.

Derek would be lying if he said he was heartbroken over this piece of news as he still thought it best if Emily didn't get involved with someone like Mallory. But because he loved Emily, he chose to support her. And that meant comforting her when she was upset about this. Unsure of what to say to her though, Derek pulled her closer to him and dropped her hands to circle his strong arms around her petite middle section.

Her body did not relax to his touch as it normally did as Emily kept her body rigid. Nor did she wind her arms around his neck like she normally did when he hugged her. Emily Prentiss was a strong woman and she was not going to let him see for a moment how weak she sometimes felt.

How she felt now when there was absolutely nothing she could do.

"Are you going to go after her?"

Derek's question sounded more accusing than curious to Emily's ears. That was expected though, Emily mused. He still didn't like the fact that she wanted to give Mallory a better life.

It didn't matter though. Not now.

Shaking her head, Emily's dark hair fell into her eyes. Pushing it back, she quietly replied with a simple, "No."

That didn't sound like Emily, Derek mused, surprised by her response. She was determined to help Mallory, which he knew. Why was she so determined to sit back and do nothing now? Taking a step back so that he could look at her better, Derek raised his eyebrows in question. He wanted to say something, to ask why, but he wasn't quite sure what he could say. So he let the silence remain.

Finally, after a few silent minutes passed, he spoke. "That doesn't sound like you," he commented, his voice low and quiet. It was Emily's turn to remain silent. Emily was surprised by his comment and her eyebrows rose to her hairline as she glanced up at him. But, she did not speak. She let her expression filled features speak for her. So, Derek continued and elaborated on his last statement. "The way you fought me yesterday told me you were passionate about helping Mallory," he explained. "And now you're not going to go after her?"

Again, Emily shook her head. "She'd only reject me if I went after her. Trust me, Derek. I know her better than you think."

"How?"

The question was out before he had time to think about it. They knew each other well, but when it came to the past, they didn't talk about it. Derek and Emily had an unspoken agreement that they did not break. The only past they talked about was their past unless one had something they though the other should know.

Refusing to answer, Emily shook her head, deflecting the question. Her eyes were sad.

Yet Derek was curious. He knew that Emily had done some things in her past that she wasn't proud of and heavily regretted. Her high school yearbook photo that had circled around the BAU was proof of that. But Derek had done some things in his past they he regretted as well. Emily wouldn't tell him anything now. Maybe someday. Not now though.

Derek couldn't shake the inevitable, ominous feeling though that his and Emily's well maintained relationship would crumble to pieces and he could do nothing but sit back at watch.

"It's getting late," Emily said instead, changing the subject. "Hotch'll be expecting us back at the Police Station soon."

Agreeing with her, Derek nodded. Scaling her body up and down with his eyes, Derek whistled appreciatively. Smirking, he said, "Though I really don't think Hotch would appreciate you showing up to work in booty shorts that say _Baby Girl_ on the butt and an old t-shirt from the academy."

Smacking his arm, Emily laughed, leaving Derek to go back to her own room. Opening the door, Emily paused outside the room in the hallway. Derek followed her to the door. Leaning against the open doorway, Derek told her to go change and to meet him downstairs for breakfast. Emily smiled at his request. "Derek," she said his name ever so softly that he had a hard time hearing her. Yet, he knew that she did speak. Turning back around so that she was facing him again, her lips turned up into a small smile. The smile was sad, much like her eyes. "I love you," she whispered as if he needed to be reminded of it and maybe he did.

She had an awful feeling that the beginning of a terrible storm was just ahead.

Reaching his hand out, Derek gently stroked her cheek. "I love you too."

**xXx**

Like always, Hotch was the first of his agents to arrive at the police station that morning. Glancing at the clock on the wall of the conference room, the unit chief knew that his subordinates would be arriving soon. Until then, it was best if he looked through the case file again going through the facts planning out what he needed each agent to do.

Unfortunately, Hotch found himself unable to focus on the facts of the case. His mind was too busy swimming with thoughts of Morgan and Prentiss. Ever since Emily had first joined the team, replacing Agent Greenaway after her hasty departure, she and Derek just worked well together. While everyone on the team got along and worked well together, sometimes Hotch couldn't help but think that Morgan and Prentiss worked better together than with anyone else on the team. They brought out the best in each other on and off the field.

As friends their relationship was simple and full of flirtatious banter. Yet they were professional and always got the job done no matter what, even if it meant breaking protocol. And Hotch never had to worry about them crossing the very distinct line between friends and lovers.

Yet even when they did cross the line and started dating, Hotch didn't have to worry. As a couple, they worked even better together, if that were even possible, connecting with each other at an even deeper level. Of course they worried more about the other's safety and Hotch prayed that that would never cause them to compromise their roles in the field. It hadn't happened yet, but still Hotch worried. He worried about that as much as he worried about them being able to remain professional on the job. They had done a good job until now.

Arguing wasn't like them, Hotch mused. He figured they argued occasionally outside of the Bureau. Every married couple did. Yet, whatever they had been fighting about didn't seem like a simple, petty argument couples sometimes had. Morgan was angry and lashing out at his equally upset spouse. Prentiss was more on the defensive and unwavering in her opinions. Whatever they were fighting about, Hotch only hoped that they could work through it and come to an agreement. Splitting up the team was not something he ever wanted to do. He was blessed to run a team that loved, respected, and looked out for each other like a family.

He was quickly brought out of his wandering thoughts by his team's voices carrying throughout the building. It sounded like Rossi was teasing the poor young genius again. Soon Rossi, Reid, and JJ were joining him in the conference room. All seemed to be well rested, carrying cups of coffee. Morgan and Prentiss were still nowhere to be seen.

"Have you seen Prentiss and Morgan this morning?" he asked the three.

Rossi and JJ both shook their heads no and Hotch let out a heavy sigh. As much as he hated to split the team up, he would have to. He had promised he would do so if they could not settle their disagreement quickly and efficiently and Aaron Hotchner was a man of his word.

"I saw Morgan in the hotel lobby," Reid replied in answer to Hotch's question. "He said he was going to ride over with Emily."

Good. Hotch thought to himself. If they were going to ride over together, it must mean that they had been able to come to an agreement. Hotch knew they would never ride in the same vehicle if they were upset with each other. Emily Prentiss was notorious at holding grudges.

"I'll get Morgan and Prentiss caught up when they get here but for now…"


	8. Chapter 8

Emily sighed, following Morgan later that morning through the police station to the conference room where the team was set up. The couple was instantly greeted by a stern agent Hotchner, who appeared to not be happy at all. Hotch couldn't be mad at them though. They'd done what he'd asked of them. While things weren't all hunky dory between her and Derek as they usually were, they were on speaking terms. Being on speaking terms meant that they could work together and if they could work together effectively and efficiently, it meant that Hotch could not transfer either one of them.

They never should have had to even worry about Hotch transferring one of them, Emily mused as they entered the conference room. Their disagreement never should have erupted like it did and they shouldn't have fought about Mallory like that.

As much as Emily still wanted to help Mallory, it was too late. The girl had left, convinced that Emily was just like any other person that said they cared about her. Everyone said they cared, that they wanted to do something to help, but everyone left. Nobody helped and nobody cared.

Derek was right. It wasn't like her to want to add Mallory to their little family which only consisted of the two of them so soon after meeting the poor girl because Emily didn't trust people easily. But Derek didn't understand Emily's need to help her. He didn't know that once upon a time, she had been Mallory. That she knew what it was like to hate oneself so much that all they wanted to do was die and to disappear forever. And he definitely didn't understand that the ever present feeling of loneliness did not disappear once surrounded by people. He didn't know what it was like to be surrounded by people, but feel like the only person in the room.

Emily couldn't blame him for not knowing though. Neither one of them were good at opening up about their feelings or the past for that matter. Instead, they were amazingly good at stuffing and bottling up all of their emotions until they couldn't take any more and eventually exploded into inconsolable emotional fits. People generally described them as the strong and silent type. Everyone believed that nothing was ever wrong because they always appeared to have it all together. Unfortunately, those that seemed to have everything under control felt like on the inside they were breaking.

When it came to telling Derek about the past, she was apprehensive about it, just as he was himself.

Derek had been right again when he'd told her earlier that morning that just letting Mallory leave wasn't like her. Emily was a determined and passionate person. When she wanted something, she worked until she got it. If she wanted to do something, she did it and nobody was going to tell her otherwise. But Mallory had left without a word during the night, so what was Emily to do? Sure, she knew that she could easily go out on the streets and look for Mallory. However, Emily knew the action would be futile. Mallory wasn't stupid though and would not go back to the area she used to inhabit if she thought there was any chance of Emily going after her. Besides, Emily knew exactly the thoughts that occasionally wandered through Mallory's mind like a lost tourist and the thoughts that had taken up permanent residence in her mind as well. Not to mention, having used every defense mechanism known to mankind herself, Emily knew that if she did go out on the street and found Mallory, the girl would pull away even more just to protect her fragile heart the only way she knew how. By shutting people out and building tall, unbreakable brick walls around her heart.

After giving up on God and the church as a scared and lonely teenager, Emily was surprised to find herself praying to the almighty deity for Mallory now.

"Rossi and Reid are working on putting together a preliminary profile," Hotch explained to them upon their entrance to the conference room. His intense stare, almost a glare, told the couple that he was not happy with them at the moment. Still, the unit chief did not chew them out like an irate mother to disobedient child as they had originally feared. Instead, he motioned to the empty conference room next door. Whatever Hotch was going to discuss with them was a private matter and not intended for curious bystanders and was not to be repeated.

Slowly, Derek and Emily followed Hotch to the other conference room. Their footsteps were slow and heavy as they trudged along like they were being forced to do something against their will. And maybe they were. Derek and probably Emily as well were hoping that the stern unit chief would forget about lecturing them. Unfortunately for them, Aaron Hotchner was not a forgetful person and spent half the night, planning on what he was going to say to reprimand their actions of the day before.

Emily groaned, closing the door to the conference room behind her. Hotch and Derek was already seated at opposite sides of the oblong table, waiting for her to sit down and join them. Everyone in the room remained as silent as the dead. Taking the empty seat to Derek's right, Emily couldn't help but think back to the day before. She and Mallory had talked and played scrabble in these same chairs. Ever since Emily woke up this morning, discovering her gone, Mallory had been weighing heavily on her mind. There was so much Emily felt she could have done to make Mallory feel loved, but didn't do. A listening ear and game of scrabble didn't exactly say, "I love you." Shaking her head, Emily tried to clear her head. Mallory was gone. She wasn't going to come back or even call, even thou to love Emily had slipped her card in with the girl's few possessions. Even if she tried to forget about Mallory, Emily doubted that she could. Mothers never forgot the child they lost. And while Mallory wasn't exactly a child and Emily not a mother, the profiler cared for the depressed girl as if she was her child. Besides, one did not need to be a parent to love someone unconditionally like a parent loves a child. Mallory needed to experience a mother's love, something that she'd been denied as a child. Emily wanted to give her that.

Her thoughts of Mallory were interrupted by Hotch clearing his throat. Speaking clearly to them and maintaining eye contact, he kept his hands idle on the tabletop. Wanting to know what the other was thinking as Hotch looked at them like this, Derek and Emily glanced at each other like they usually did while being thrown under the bus and made eye contact. Whatever an on edge, upset Aaron Hotchner had to say to them could not be good. Gulping, the agents swallowed their questions, inhibitions, and pride, immediately fearing the worst as they looked to their superior.

"When we are on a case, you not only represent yourselves," Hotch said sternly as he began his lecture.

Emily glanced at her husband and rolled her eyes. This was how Hotch began every single one of his lectures, which was something both of them were accustomed to. One or both of them always seemed to be getting heat from Hotch or Strauss for breaking protocol and not following orders. Their rash, hasty, and impulsive actions on the job usually landed them in a meeting like this one, being reprimanded for their actions. Unable to follow the orders of their superiors would ultimately lead to their downfalls as Strauss so gently put it once after a case after she and Morgan had deliberately ignored Hotch's orders. Maybe, they had been a little too quick to move in and didn't wait for backup, but a victim's life depended on it. After being cleared by the paramedics, she and Derek had received a stern lecture from Hotch and an unpaid suspension from Strauss.

"We know," Emily groaned with a roll of her eyes.

Hotch only glared at her to reprimand her for interrupting his lecture. The glare did the trick and Emily sunk lower into her seat as she fixated her gaze on the floor, instead of on Derek. Both subordinates resembled naughty school children in the principal's office as they awaited their fate.

"You represent this team and ultimately the Bureau. Acting unprofessionally because you have a personal vendetta with each other could mean a bad rap for this team. If the local police do not think we are professional, they aren't going to call us in to assist with their investigations." He watched Derek and Emily bow their heads in shame as they listened to every single one of his words. They regretted their actions, mentally kicking themselves for letting their personal relationship get in the way of their work. "Not to mention, Strauss is looking for an excuse to reassign this team. You just may have given her one." Apologies rested on the tips of their tongues, but Hotch didn't let them speak. Vocal apologies didn't change anything. "I warned you yesterday that if you did not have this issue sorted out by morning, one of you would be transferred once we got back to Quantico." Hotch watched them slowly nod their heads. They understood. "Both of you are remarkable profilers and I would be sad to see either one of you leave this team."

"We talked this morning," Derek told Hotch, taking his chances on speaking. A quick glance in his wife's direction resulted in a smile. Smiling at Emily, he didn't bother to look at Hotch as he continued. "And we're good."

They had talked that morning, but they were far from good, Emily thought to herself as she watched Hotch nod his head in approval, deep in thought. Somehow, she knew that this whole thing would come back to bite them in the butt when they least expected it. Few problems could be solved with a kiss as much as people wished and pretended it to be true.

Hotch nodded in agreement. "Well then," he said. "You wouldn't mind assisting Rossi at a new crime scene, would you?"

**xXx**

"You know Rossi's just along to babysit us," Emily whispered to Derek as he migrated the black Chevrolet Suburban along the city streets. Morgan smiled as he nodded in agreement all the while risking a glance at the older profiler through the rearview mirror.

The Italian's brown eyes were staring back at him full of mirth as an amused smirk coveted his face. "Well, it's not my fault you decided to have a lover's quarrel in the middle of the police station."

His comment caused Emily's white cheeks to turn a crimson red color from embarrassment. She hadn't of expected him to hear her. But it was true that he was along only as Hotch's spy to keep an eye on them and report back to the unit chief. After all, they were in the doghouse. They were in the doghouse and would continue to be so until Hotch decided that he could trust them to be alone together again. Unfortunately for them, Hotch's scale was different than that of a normal 1-10 scale. On a normal scale, their wrong doing would probably be about a seven. Hotch's scale however, it was probably an eleven. So it could very well be a long time before Hotch fully trusted them again.

Upon arriving at the crime scene, the three agents exited the vehicle and wandered towards the yellow tape that blocked the crime scene off to the public. This crime scene was an abandoned feed mill from the sixties and the victim a well-dressed, wealthy thirty three year old male of the upper class.

"Damn," Derek muttered under his breath. Crime scene was still diligently at work processing the scene and the coroner had yet to remove the body. Although this is the first crime scene of the case he'd walked, he was getting tired of them. It meant that the unsub was ahead of them and he hated that. One glance towards Emily, told him that she was thinking the same thing. Glancing at Rossi, Derek knew that the older man only cared about getting ahead of the unsub right now. The longer they stayed behind him, more and more victims would pile up.

"Just like the others," Emily commented, letting out a sigh as she pulled on a pair of the latex gloves. The female profiler was right, just like all the other victims, this one had been shot execution style with one bullet to the head. Stooping beside the deceased man's body, Emily used her gloved hand to pick up his arm. Peering at the wrist, she shook her head. Dropping the arm and looking up at her teammates, she said, "They're no defensive wounds."

The three agents finished profiling the scene and returned to the police station in silence. Even though Emily wanted to make a sarcastic remark about Rossi's evaluation of her and Derek's actions in the field, she remained silent by biting her tongue. All three of the agents were deep in their own thoughts about the case.

Derek and Emily had remained professional at the crime scene. Somehow, Rossi knew they would. While he understood Hotch's concerns, Rossi thought that the unit chief was a little unfair to agents who did wrong on the job.

While able to complete the tasks asked of her, Derek couldn't help but think that Emily seemed a little distracted. He wondered if she were thinking about Mallory again. If Mallory was gone and Emily was still thinking about her, then Derek knew that she'd gotten attached. Emily was difficult to figure out since she was notorious for playing her cards close to the chest at all times. This was rather obvious since he couldn't figure out the reason why Emily cared so much about someone she barely knew.

He couldn't stop looking at her with that damn look on his face which she couldn't tell if it was pity or something else. Emily Prentiss hated that look, just like she hated people feeling sorry for her. There he was looking at her again while he should be watching the road. Just because he learned to drive in Chicago, didn't mean he had to drive horribly! If he paid half of much attention to the road as he did to her, they might have already arrived at their destination. She glanced back at him, before turning her head completely away so that he could only see the back of her head.

Derek sighed when he glanced in his wife's direction again, but was only met by the back of her head.


End file.
